th, and
Knapp, who loves the rattle of a coach, and pleasant, clever Hawtry, and
careful Okes, and that shrewd sapper, Green, followed by medium Dupuis,
and the intelligent Chapman: these form his classic escort to the
cloisters. But who shall paint the captain's envied feelings, the proud
triumph of his assiduity and skill? To him the honourable office of
public orator is assigned; with modest reverence he speaks the Latin
oration, standing, as is the custom from time immemorial, under the
clock. There too he receives the bright reward, the approbation of
the Provost of King's college, and the procession moves forward to the
College-hall to partake of the generous banquet. On Sunday the Provost
of King's remains a guest with his compeer of Eton. But busy Monday
arrives, and hundreds of Oxonians and Cantabs pour in to witness the
speeches of the boys, and pay a tribute of respect to their former
masters. The exhibition this day takes place in the upper school, and
consists of sixth form oppidans and collegers. How well can I remember
the animated picture Eton presents on such occasions: shoals of
juvenile oppidans, who are not yet of an age to have been elected of any
particular school-party, marching forth from their dames' houses, linked
arm in arm, parading down the street with an air and gaiety that implies
some newly acquired consequence, or liberty of conduct. Every where a
holiday face presents itself, and good humour lisps upon every tongue.
Here may be seen a youthful group, all anxiety and bustle, trudging
after some well-known _Cad_, who creeps along towards the Windsor
coach-office, loaded with portmanteaus, carpet bags, and
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boxes, like a Norfolk caravan at Christmas time; while the youthful
proprietors of the bulky stock, all anxiety and desire to reach their
relatives and friends, are hurrying him on, and do not fail to spur the
_elephant_ with many a cutting gibe, at his slow progression. Within
doors the dames are all bustle, collecting, arranging, and packing up
the wardrobes of their respective boarders; servants flying from the
hall to the attic, and endangering their necks in their passage down
again, from anxiety to meet the breathless impetuosity of their parting
guests. Books of all classes, huddled into a heap, may be seen in the
corner of each bedroom, making _sock_ for the mice till the return
of their purveyors with lots of plum-cake and savoury tarts. The more
mature are now busily enga